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“What are you doing here?” I ask, putting the bottle down.
She walks forward a little more, looks around the space rather than at me. “You brought me up to help?”
“No. Here. In this place with the others.”
“We were taken.” The sound of that cracks something inside me and makes me more bitter about the situation than I already was. “We were just walking, and then there was a man with a gun. I didn’t know what to do, and …” She trails off and wrings her hands in front of her, looking up at me from under those lashes of hers. “I thought we were …” She blinks and looks back at the bathroom. “But I should go maybe if we’re not.”
“What do you want with me?”
“With you?”
“I’m not a fucking fool, Naja. You might be hot as fuck, and I’m willing to test that out right now, but if you’re expecting me to get you out of this, you’re wrong. I can’t.”
She frowns and stares at me, nothing else but that for a minute or so. I drink some more and keep watching her fidget, unsure what I should do next. Fuck her is probably what I should do. Get it out of me and be done with it. She’ll just be something else I’ve used then, something to discard and forget about like some of my dancers.
The bottle gets placed back down again, and I lean on the door. “Do you still want to fuck after that admission? I’m not promising anything remotely gentle.”
“Can’t help, or won’t?” she asks, sharp as a razor.
I half-smile and watch her closing in on me. She’s got it all. Smoking hot body, a sharp mind guiding her. And those lips that kissed me? They’re all I’m thinking about at the moment. I want them around my cock, want her tongue lapping cum from her lips.
She licks them and uses that body she’s been training, letting it sway and glide the closer she gets. “Why don’t you answer that afterwards?” she says, goading me.
I’m like a fucking child being tempted.
Always am for a good dancer.
And this one just learnt all the moves in a matter of days.
Her hand rests gently on my chest as the other one pushes my jacket off my shoulders. Buttons get popped on my shirt, and then I’m doing the fucking stupid thing of following her over to a chair she pulls into the middle of the room. It’s all her as she uses her new skills. The dusty old room disappears, and the sordid thoughts that might come for her after this disperse. Just me and her and this dance she’s doing.
She gets her backside on my cock, grinds it about good and hard. Clothes get tossed seductively as she keeps easing through a routine she’s learned, despite the pain her foot must be in. It’s enough for me to be rubbing my dick under the pressure she’s causing, and eventually, it gets too much for me to bear without touching her.
I grab her and haul her onto my lap, letting my mouth get a good taste of what she’s offering. It’s just as sweet as it was in the bathroom, just as fucking seductive and mesmerising. I push her hand down to my cock, wait for her to get it out so I can watch her mouth around it. She’s straight on it like the good girl I knew she’d be. Firm grip, solid fucking strokes.
Groaning, I let my head tip back, desperate breaths trying to stave off what’s coming. She doesn’t let me calm. She gets off me, spreads my legs wider so she can get between my knees, and gets on with swallowing me down in long, deep moves.
I’m transfixed with the look of it, more fucking desperate than I’ve ever been to let go and claim something as my own. It’s only minutes before I’m standing and picking her up to drop her on the old sofa. She yelps at the pressure of my hands, panics for a second, then moans as I get my fingers where they’ve been desperate to be.
Smooth, wet.
Tension grips my fingers inside her, letting me know exactly how right she’s going to feel around my dick.
She’s coming first, though.
I watch her through the beginning of it. Embed the image of her mouth panting, her body twisting, her long, lean legs squirming around my arm.
“Please, Reed,” she says, taking her hand down to grip my wrist. She pulls on it, increases the pressure of my palm on her clit until she’s moaning so loud I have to smother her mouth.
“Jackson, not Reed. Make sure you remember it.”
Her eyes widen the second I shift her sideways and lift her leg back. I want to be inside her when she comes. I need that. I want to feel that around my cock, sense it on me rather than watch it.
I shift my trousers lower, get myself in real close until we’re mouth to mouth again, then shove with everything I’ve got. She hisses under my hand, mutters in that language I like hearing from her lips. And then it turns into a fucking frenzy.
I fuck, she moans.
I fuck harder, and she scratches at my chest like it’s a lifeline for her. It is, and if she keeps pleasing me like this, if she keeps gripping my cock like a goddess and milking this cum from me, she might get an answer she likes at the end.
